Falling
by this-now
Summary: 16 year old Carter Dawson, the daughter of the mayor of District 12 gets reaped into the Hunger Games. As her life lies in the balance of the sadistic and torturous Capitol, she is prepared to do anything and everything to stay alive.


_All I see are dark clouds and fast falling rain. I close my mouth quickly and cough a little to the side to clear what water has gotten to my lungs. I thought that was it. I thought I was dying. I thought it would end. The murderous tortures of the harsh sea waves and the icy air that frosted my limbs- I thought that was all gone. But apparently not as the winds pick up speed making it even harder to sit up despite my heavy, drenched clothing. I try and heave myself up, but something keeps pushing me down. It suffocates me. It hurts as I breathe. It hurts as I move. It hurts as I blink. _

"Hey- wake up! Come on, wake up…"

_The sentence echoes in my mind over and over like someone keeps saying it. But I look around myself and see no one through my struggle. The darkened beach is desolate. I'm alone. I make an effort to try and sit again but it's no use. I'm falling short of air to breathe._

I awake with a sharp gasp. My father towers above me with a crooked concerned look on his face. He looks tired. "When are these night terrors going to stop, Carter?" he yawn, grabbing a glass of water from my nightstand and gestures for me to drink it. I prop myself up on my elbow and take it from him gratefully. I think about his question. I've had nightmares since I was a child. It started when I was twelve years old and eligible to be reaped. And I've had one at least every few days for four years now. They come in different forms most of the time, but the fears are the same. They occur in the strangest of ways. I don't know what I'm scared of. Only that these dreams I have, tell me somehow what they are. I wish I knew what they were so I could try and face them. But then again if the fear is being reaped, I can't really face that until it happens. I hope it never happens, and then the fear will disappear.

"I don't know," I subconsciously respond. The image of being suffocated on the cold beach reappears in front of my eyes and a shiver goes right up my spine, making my body stiff. My dad's voice brings me back to reality.

"Well you better get some sleep. The reaping is tomorrow morning," he tells me and exits my room, closing the door over but leaving a crack so that a line of light streaks into my room. I can't stop thinking about my dreams. They flash to me like they never have done before. I stare at the light until my eyelids close over my eyes.

I had no dream after that. It was just black. Everything seems like that right now. Dread. Worry. Terror. I feel everything anyone else would feel, except they are all determined that the reaping is rigged because I am the mayor's daughter. I swirl my finger blindly in my steaming hot cocoa. I don't even feel it burning me at all. I feel numb. I could be picked like any other unfortunate kid could be picked. It's chance. I know that the Capitol don't favour anyone from the districts, so why would they favour me. Yes, my name is in that bowl fewer times than most people in this district, but I didn't pick this life. I'm not prim and proper. I'm not posh. I'm just like anyone else, just with a rich father.

Speaking of my father, he walks by my and lifts my hand away and dries my finger with the towel he holds. He doesn't say anything and just drops it on the counter. My attention turns to him instead of my thoughts. A question bubbles over my lips before I can stop it.

"Do you worry?" I ask. His eyebrows knit together as he sits down across from me. I guess that's my cue to explain myself. I wait for a minute, choosing my words carefully. "About what will happen every year?" I gulp and continue. "Are you afraid that I could get picked?" I finish and lose my eye contact with him. I know what's coming next before the words spill from his mouth.

"Of course I do." Oh. I thought he would tell me how I'm being ridiculous. I thought he would tell me that it would be barbaric for me to be chosen. I thought he would tell me off. But that is all he says and with that, he gets up and leaves the room. I glance up at the softly-ticking clock on the wall. It's almost ten. The reaping starts at eleven. I better get going.

I walk briskly through my house, past my piano and into the hallway. I slip some shoes on and smooth down my dress. My mother used to wear it. I've never fitted it until now. I'm glad I have a piece of her with me when I'm standing there waiting for my name to be called or not to be called. Maybe it would make things easier if she were here, and not in the Capitols hands as they try and cure her condition. I shake my head and open the door. The air hits me like a brick wall. Anxiety fills the air and thins it completely. People walk in the same direction. Everyone knows they are heading towards their possible doom. I close the door behind me and walk separately, knowing that I could be heading towards mine.


End file.
